


Red Belts and Black Satin

by Fearharte



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, References to Drugs, Semi-Public Sex, Sexy Times, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Undercover, kind of dub-con situations not really, support sex workers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearharte/pseuds/Fearharte
Summary: Seifer took a sip of his scotch and scanned the room again, then almost choked when he saw Squall had finally made his appearance while he had been lost in thought.Of course the man who could learn to waltz flawlessly before a song was over could striptease like a god.--Five years after the game, Squall and Seifer are on an undercover mission together at a strip club.
Relationships: Seifer Almasy/Squall Leonhart
Comments: 10
Kudos: 133





	Red Belts and Black Satin

**Author's Note:**

> A certain infamous lip-syncing dance is the inspiration of this story.
> 
> Disclaimers: 1) I fully support sex workers of all kinds and any possibly negative thoughts toward the profession in this story are just Squall and Seifer being uncomfortable and jealous. In this story, they also support sex workers. 2) I don't condone drug use. I don't know why I use drugs as a plot device, sorry. No drugs are seen used in this story though. 3) I do not own anything except my brain made of fluff.
> 
> The story starts with Seifer's POV, switches to Squall's in the next section, and then the last section is both of them switching throughout the same scene because I hate the one POV at a time rule...

Seifer entered the strip club like he owned the place, just as he would if he were a real patron and not on duty for Balamb Garden. Smoke clung to the ceiling, thick clouds glowing bright as gold, purple, and blue lights pulsed around the club. Tables were laid out across the floor, crowded with men and women looking for a fun time—regulars and cautious first-timers alike, along with the occasional bachelorette party shrieking over their wild night out. A couple of stages were lining the walls, all occupied with toned, gorgeous men dressed in bow ties, male thongs, and little else. Some were completely nude, swirling their hips so their impressive lengths bounced in front of patrons’ faces. Seifer saw one bride-to-be laughing and leaning forward to give a stripper a blow job, egged on by her friends. He rolled his eyes and made his way further into the club.

He nodded to a waiter he was starting to recognize and walked to one of his preferred seats toward the back, where he would have the best vantage point of the room. The waiter who greeted him came over and took his order, a scotch on the rocks, making sure to properly position his pelvis close to Seifer’s face so he got a good view of both his noticeable bulge in the black briefs and his ass cheeks hanging out the back. Not a bad sight, but not what he was here for.

Seifer had been coming to the upscale club for almost three weeks now, a couple times a week, usually Fridays and Saturdays and occasionally a Tuesday or Wednesday. The goal was to establish himself as a new regular so that he wouldn’t stand out as much when Squall made his debut. 

A debut Squall had resolutely refused, repeatedly, no matter how many times Xu told him it was necessary for the stake out, until Selphie frowned up at him and told him he had to do it if he didn’t want more people to die from the tainted drugs linked to the club. Seifer wasn’t sure if that had really convinced Squall, though, or if it was the fear of Selphie storming the place by herself and blowing up everything in her path, since she followed up her argument with the statement that if Squall couldn’t do his job, she’d handle it her way.

Seifer still wasn’t entirely convinced that Squall could do this job even if he tried, though. In the five years since the end of the Second Sorceress War, he hadn’t seen Squall fail a single mission, but this one might be too much. 

The moody brunet hadn’t changed much over the years, despite what he had been through—fighting against Ultimecia, dating Rinoa for a year, and finally breaking up with the angelic sorceress, mostly likely _because_ he hadn’t changed much. Sure, he was more talkative now and showed normal human empathy, even going so far as to get Seifer enlisted back into Garden six months after the war with one more shot at the SeeD exam, which he passed, after Ellone cleared Seifer of treason by inspecting his memories and finding Ultimecia’s magic deeply influencing his thoughts. But that wasn’t _change._ That was maturity. And no matter how much Squall matured, he wasn’t going to stop being Squall. He was still way too blunt with his assessments of people and situations, blandly calling stupid out when he saw it, and he played the devil’s advocate too often, something that Seifer had seen Rinoa blow up over in the final weeks of their relationship when Squall pointed out that an eco-terrorist group she wanted to help had gotten several dozen people killed in their last protest.

That fight had been the final straw for Squall, if Seifer had to guess. Rinoa had ended the argument by shouting that Squall had no morals and Ultimecia could have won the war if she had just paid him enough, and Squall finally raised his voice back, telling her to get the fuck out of his office if that’s what she thought of him. Seifer still got chills thinking about the anger in his voice. He and Quistis had been there to report after another mission and Rinoa had barged in to discuss Squall’s refusal of her request. When the sorceress threw a vase sitting on a nearby bookshelf at Squall, Seifer had leaned back in his seat to watch the spectacle with interest. Squall had tilted his head to effortlessly dodge the attack and the fury in his eyes was absolutely enchanting. Rinoa stormed out, calling him a fucking asshole, and Quistis excused herself to avoid the awkwardness. Seifer met Squall’s hostile gaze and grinned at the scowl he received when he asked the commander if he wanted to go train. It turned out to be one of their most exhilarating sessions and when they were finished, both of them laying on their backs in the rocky valley near Balamb where they had once exchanged scars, breathing heavily and covered in sweat and small wounds, Squall actually smiled when Seifer made a smartass comment about dodging vases better than fireballs.

Seifer wasn’t sure who officially ended the relationship between Squall and Rinoa a few weeks later, but he didn’t really care. Rinoa returned to Timber in a hissy fit and Squall seemed to relax around the Garden for a change. And, somehow, he and Seifer became regular partners on missions. Rinoa occasionally met with Xu to discuss political matters, since she was still the only public sorceress in the world, but as far as Seifer was aware, Squall made a point to never see her over the years, and he didn’t date anyone else. When Seifer had asked him about _that_ one night while they were driving back to Balamb Garden after a long trip, Squall told him he was happy with the way things were and wouldn’t say anything more after that. 

So despite the ways he changed, Squall was still very much the serious, abrasive, closed-off man he always had been, and there was no way in hell he was going to pass as a stripper.

The waiter came back with Seifer’s drink, straddling Seifer as he leaned toward the table to set the glass down. He swayed his hips in front of Seifer’s face teasingly.

“Should I open a tab, handsome?” The waiter asked over the music, smiling at him. Seifer grinned back, taking a roll of bills out of his black dress shirt pocket and pulling one free.

“I’ll pay cash,” he said, tucking the bill into the side waistband of the waiter’s briefs. He earned a sultry look for that and then the waiter was gone again. Seifer took a sip of his scotch and scanned the room again, then almost choked when he saw Squall had finally made his appearance while he had been lost in thought.

One hand, sheathed in a fingerless black glove, gripped a dance pole that doubled as a light, softly glowing white to illuminate a muscular arm that lead up to a bare shoulder shining with oil. He wore a black zip-up vest that dipped low down the front of his chest, giving his viewers a peek at his sculpted pecks and drawing the eye down to his tapered waist. Black booty shorts hugged his hips, tight enough to show the outline of his cock slanted up and a little to the side, the crown just reaching under the waistband as if to tease that it might pop out at any moment. Fishnet stockings and black combat boots gave him a dangerous look, as if he’d step on a man’s chest before he even considered touching him in a pleasant way, something that made him all the more alluring. And to finish the outfit, red belts—not the ones he usually wore, but brighter, like candy or poison—clung around his thigh, waist, forearm, and throat. He was the most-dressed man dancing, and yet he was far more captivating to look at than anyone else as he rolled his hips and stomach in a fluid movement that left Seifer’s mouth dry.

He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to cut him out of those clothes and lick every inch of his hard body and see him move like that wearing nothing but white bedsheets.

Seifer finally dragged his eyes back up Squall’s body and met hooded blue eyes that looked even sharper than usual rimmed with black eyeliner, looking directly at him, his thin brows furrowed in annoyed confusion, his hair swept back away from his face for once. His scar had been covered by make up so that it was completely invisible, just as Seifer's had been, and for the first time ever, Seifer was sorry for the mark he had made on the other man five years ago. He had forgotten how flawless he looked without it, more feminine which made his masculinity even stronger in contrast.

Squall glanced away to focus on a patron who was reaching up the stage to grope his inner thigh, tucking a hundred Gil bill in one of the belts. Squall crouched down and spread his knees so the man could get a better look and a better reach. He didn’t smile at the customer, but instead glared coldly at him as he rocked his hips a little, still holding onto the dance pole for balance, and the customer reached higher to cup Squall’s cock. Squall let him have a brief touch, then stood up again to continue his dance, giving his attention to a couple women on the other side of the stage. He shifted between focusing on individual patrons to ignoring them completely as he moved in sync with the pulsing music of the club, turning and walking in circles to give his section of the stage full view of him. His movements were fluid and confident, and despite his pretty face, his body and his dance were powerful and masculine, thrusting his hips in a dominating way, muscles and tendons telling his viewers that he could make them feel intense pleasure and pain in equal measure. Of course the man who could learn to waltz flawlessly before a song was over could striptease like a god.

When Squall moved off the stage down to the floor amongst the customers, straddling a woman’s lap without touching her as a half dozen hands reached out to grope him and shove bills wherever they could reach, Seifer was on his feet and crossing the room before he realized it. Squall cautiously lifted his eyes as he got nearer, but he played his part well and didn’t seem the least bit surprised when Seifer gently caught his arm and pulled him away from the others, as if he was just another patron himself. 

Seifer drew him in close, his eyes locked on Squall’s as if in a haze. Quiet possessiveness was running warm through his veins, guiding his movements automatically. He dipped his fingers into his shirt pocket and retrieved several bills, held them up for Squall and the other customers to see, and then tucked them into the front of Squall’s shorts, careful not to graze his length. Squall nodded silently, his lids heavy with faux lust that sent chills up Seifer's spine.

When the other customers realized Seifer just paid for a couple of very expensive personal dances, they backed off, turning their attention to other dancers or keeping an eye on Squall from afar. Squall slid his palm up Seifer’s chest and gently pushed him back away from the stage. He hooked his fingers between Seifer’s and turned to lead him to an empty booth near the back.

Squall pushed Seifer to sit down, then glanced up when a waiter appeared. “Well, how did you catch Adonis?” he asked Squall about Seifer, and Seifer barely registered that it was the same man who had served him earlier. The waiter set a fresh scotch on a side table and winked at Seifer. “Hey, River’s pretty, but don’t forget about me, okay? I’m more fun.” The waiter reached out to run his fingers down Seifer’s bicep, but Squall calmly knocked his hand away.

“Don’t touch my client.”

The waiter clicked his tongue but turned away from Squall’s stony glare, not looking for a fight. Squall turned his attention back to Seifer and Seifer swallowed hard. Then Squall was straddling his lap, resting his weight on his thighs and looping his arms around Seifer’s neck as Seifer’s own hands settled on his hips. 

"What do you need?" Squall asked, bringing his mouth closer to Seifer's ear so his low voice could be heard under the music. "I haven't been out long enough to see anything yet."

It took everything in Seifer's willpower not to tell Squall exactly what he needed, almost forgetting that they were here on assignment. "Um," Seifer said and swallowed thickly. He cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of his own cock straining against his gray slacks. He shifted a little, hoping Squall wouldn't notice. "You're drawing a lot of attention."

"I thought that's what I'm supposed to do," Squall said, prompted by Seifer's shift to start moving. He tilted his head to the side to expose his neck to Seifer, then leaned away and rolled his head back and to the other side. Seifer squeezed his hips and Squall leaned forward again, lifting a little to line his vest zipper in front of Seifer's mouth. "Bite it."

Seifer obeyed immediately, leaning forward to clasp the little metal zipper between his teeth. He looked up as Squall rose, standing over Seifer's thighs so the zipper pulled down there length of his whole chest, revealing his nipples and hard abs until the entire garment was open and Seifer's nose was in front of Squall's bulge. He groaned, letting go of the zipper, and slid both his hands around to Squall's ass, groping him hard.

"Shouldn't you be a little less conspicuous on your first night?" Seifer asked, trying to retain any semblance of professionalism, as if his reactions were only an act, a performance as fake as Squall's.

"This is my third night," Squall said, rolling his shoulders back to slide the vest of his arms, letting it drop to the floor between Seifer's feet. Seifer looked up at him in surprised concern.

"I thought you weren't starting until tonight. Were you okay?"

Squall smirked softly at him and Seifer's breath left his body.

"Yeah, it was fine." Squall slipped his fingers into Seifer's hair and began pumping his hips a few inches away from his nose. Seifer stared at his hard cock under the fabric. Squall placed a boot on the chair between Seifer's legs, giving him a better view, and Seifer finally spotted the zippers down the front of his shorts, a familiar style.

"Taking fashion tips from Rinoa?" Seifer asked faintly, barely even aware he was running his mouth. Squall tugged his hair a little to punish him.

"Don't say our ex-girlfriend's name when I'm stripping for you," Squall said quietly with irritation and Seifer shot his eyes back up to meet that steely blue gaze. 

"R-right," Seifer breathed. "You're, um, very good at this…"

Squall clicked his tongue, annoyed again, and Seifer winced inwardly. 

"Not like I had a choice. Act like you're more into this, I want to get someone's attention so I don't have to come back tomorrow."

Squall flicked his gaze toward the corner of the room and Seifer already knew who he was looking at. He had first spotted the man himself his first night visiting the club, an older guy with gray streaks in his black hair. His clothes were understated but expensive and he had several strippers, men and the few rare women, sitting around him in various states of debauchery. Last time he had looked toward him, about fifteen minutes ago, there were two women performing oral sex on each other across his table. A heavily armed bodyguard stood nearby, and a few other similarly dressed business associates were sitting with him.

"That's not the owner?" Seifer asked. He pulled out another bill from his shirt and unzipped one side of Squall's shorts, revealing the top of his fishnet stocking and the side of a sinfully thin thong. He tucked the bill into Squall's stocking and glanced up to see him looking back down at him intensely.

"No…And he's looking at me," Squall murmured. He stepped his foot back off Seifer's chair and turned around to drop his ass and roll his full body back up. Seifer found another zipper in the back and pulled it down so the garment dropped away completely, revealing Squall's toned, gorgeous ass clad in nothing but a g-string. He had seen Squall a thousand times in the locker room at Garden, had stared at his ass when no one would catch him, jerked off to it in the privacy of his bedroom, dreamt of it. But he had never seen it so close. Fuck, he wanted to lick it. 

Squall dropped to sit on Seifer's lap, and then froze for just a second, landing directly on his throbbing hard-on. Seifer shifted to slot himself between Squall's cheeks more comfortably, completely unable to hide this. Keeping up the act like he was requested, he reached forward and stroked his fingers along both of Squall's inner thighs, dangerously close to his cock sheathed in teasingly thin black fabric.

"Sorry, can't help it," Seifer growled in his ear and pushed Squall's thighs further open. "Don't act weird, this is normal for a stripper, right?"

Squall hesitated only a moment before swaying his body side to side, rocking down on Seifer's cock. Seifer's breath hitched and he lifted up a little into the movement.

"Customers are allowed to touch?"

"Y-yeah…they're expected to," Squall whispered just loud enough for Seifer to hear. Seifer ghosted his lips along Squall's neck, still trailing his fingers up and down his inner thighs, tracing the edge of a red belt.

"Am I allowed to touch you?" Seifer breathed, asking Squall, not the stripper in his lap. Squall swallowed hard.

"Y-yes…"

Seifer was already breathing heavily, moving with Squall in a way they never had during battles, yet his blood still felt like it was on fire, like at any moment he might receive a fatal blow. He grazed his fingers up Squall's cock outside the fabric and groaned when he felt how hard he was, burying his nose into the hair behind his ear. Squall pumped his hips forward to coax him into touching him more and Seifer cupped him fully, massaging him and exploring his shape through the satin. Squall rolled his ass back again and Seifer moaned loudly as they got into a rhythm. _Fuck,_ he was gone, gone, _gone._

"Ah, nnn, Squ-"

Squall jerked his head to the side and kissed Seifer in a rush, capturing him over his shoulder, licking into him passionately, then breaking away just as harshly to look up at someone in front of them, leaving Seifer in a breathless daze. He panted and tried to get control of his bearings again, found his hand wrapped around Squall's bare cock, the thong twisted to the side out of the way, revealing the gorgeous length weeping precum. His other hand was spread against Squall's stomach, pulling him back into his lap. When Squall spoke, Seifer finally looked up to see they had been interrupted.

"He paid for three songs," Squall said, glaring up at the visitor, his voice breathless and husky, but strong, like his lifelong rival didn't currently have his dick in his hand, like none of this was strange or like Squall really was only working with some stranger.

"Someone wants to pay more," the waiter said with a shrug. "He says if you cum before you see him, don't show up at all."

"…Fine, where is he?" Squall asked with annoyance. The waiter seemed used to his attitude even after only three days and Seifer wondered if that was supposed to be Squall's selling point.

"Section two, high roller, he's a usual. You'll know him when you see him," the waiter replied. Then he winked at Seifer. "Want me to take care of you, gorgeous?"

Squall turned his head to look at Seifer and Seifer gently released his length, straightening the fabric as if that did anything to give him modesty. Squall glared back up at the waiter again.

"Did he say I have to jump up immediately?" Squall asked, like he hated being ordered around.

"No, just that you weren't allowed to cum," the waiter said, sighing and rolling his eyes. "You sure are arrogant for a newbie."

"My clients like that," Squall said and the waiter shrugged and walked away again, saying something about hating aggressive doms.

"You have clients?" Seifer asked guardedly. Squall turned to search his eyes, hesitating before he leaned in and kissed him again, slowly this time. Seifer closed his eyes and pressed into this kiss, making a soft, needful noise and Squall relaxed, slipping a hand into his hair with a quiet moan. When they parted for air, Squall looked as punch-drunk as Seifer felt.

"I had a strict no-touching-my-dick-under-clothes rule until you went exploring," Squall murmured distractedly. "You're probably why this guy finally called for me."

Seifer grimaced, irritated by that even though that meant the mission was going well.

"Smile like I'm telling you I'll come back just for you," Squall said, forcing a smirk at him, acting out the part of flirting. He stood up, but turned around fully to kneel one knee between Seifer's legs, leaning in to drag his hands up Seifer's chest. 

Seifer flashed him a smile and looked down to hide his displeasure. He had no right, but he couldn't stop the question, unsure how far this charade was going to go. "Does he get to break the rule?"

Squall suddenly dropped back down on Seifer's thigh and pulled him into another passionate kiss, dipping his tongue into his mouth possessively. Seifer moaned, shoving one hand up onto the back of Squall's hair, the other dragging down his naked back. Then Squall was pulling away completely, zipping his shorts back up around his legs, leaving Seifer breathless and stunned again as he walked away.

\--

It took every fiber in Squall's being not to turn around and pull Seifer into a private room to have his way with him. His heart slammed in his chest fast, making him feel lightheaded and it almost seemed like he was caught in a dream he'd wake up from any second. 

Seifer tasted like scotch and fire—not woodsmoke but the strange heat Squall could always smell after he got hit by one of those fiagra spells. Almost like cinnamon. Seifer tasted like scotch and magic-infused cinnamon and Squall wanted to go back and drink him in, keep tasting him, make the man moan his name loudly without having to cut him off to avoid blowing their cover. 

Instead, he ducked into a nice single occupancy bathroom and locked the door, then pulled his gloves off and tucked them into his waistband so he could run cool water over his wrists. Holy fuck, he had kissed Seifer Almasy. He had kissed him, danced for him, let him stroke his cock. Squall braced his hands on the granite counter, his length perking up again at the memory. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

He had asked Selphie to help him plan his stripper outfit a few days ago, down to the thong and belts, trusting her taste as a woman and her discretion as his only friend who knew he had been questioning his sexuality for the last few years. Not that he had told her that willingly—the small woman was annoyingly perceptive and had constantly caught him “gravitating toward Seifer,” as she put it. He had brushed her off, but she had trailed after him ticking examples off on her fingers, pointing out that he always sat near Seifer, trained with Seifer, seemed to relax when Seifer was close, looked to Seifer for his opinion on pending missions, and of course the whole, brought Seifer back to Balamb Garden thing, which had not been easy. He had snapped at her to mind her own damned business and she grinned at him in response, asking if he hadn’t noticed he was in love with Seifer yet.

Of course, he had fucking noticed. And he had also noticed that Seifer seemed to be very straight, ogling women every now and then, even though he was polite enough to hide it. His favorite type seemed to be incredibly curvy, with full breasts and soft thighs, the literal opposite of Squall’s everything, and he suspected that Seifer stayed out every so often to keep a girl company, one-night-stands that meant nothing, except that Seifer was looking for satisfaction that Squall could never give him. That he would never even think to ask Squall for.

And Squall had fully believed that all night, even as he noticed Seifer watching him, even as he was pulled away from the crowd for a private dance to talk about the mission, even as Seifer touched and obeyed him as if he were a real customer caught up in the thrill of a striptease, up to the very minute he sat on Seifer’s lap and felt his very hard length grind up into his ass. And the noises he made during those kisses… Hyne… 

So many hands had been all over Squall’s body for the past three nights, repulsing him and testing his patience, but Seifer’s hands had felt so good, had left scorch marks on his skin. Squall opened his eyes to look at his stomach just to make sure there weren’t really handprints there. He was almost sorry to see his skin unmarked. He sighed at his pathetic thoughts and glared up at his reflection, startling himself once again to find his real scar missing. He kept forgetting Selphie had expertly covered it with makeup. Even up close it was nearly invisible. She had covered Seifer’s, too, and Squall was disturbed by both marks’ disappearances. He didn’t feel like himself without that scar. Five years was a long time, and with the lingering effects of the GFs eroding his memories despite leaps in junctioning technology improving things greatly, he had barely remembered what he looked like without it.

He resisted the urge to rub at the makeup now and straightened away from the counter, looking himself over critically. Was Seifer really affected by him? Or was it just the atmosphere of the club? The way he had asked permission to touch him and moaned in his ear sent chills rolling down Squall’s spine, but maybe Seifer was just caught up in the moment. He seemed like the type to get carried away without thinking. And he had been drinking. How many scotches had he downed before he saw Squall dancing for strangers?

 _Enough to almost moan his name on a mission_ , Squall’s thoughts talked back at him. He hadn’t planned to kiss Seifer, but with that damned waiter showing up out of nowhere, Cline or whatever his name was, Squall had to shut Seifer up fast. And kissing was common in the club. So were hand jobs, blow jobs, and full out sex. Squall had seen plenty over the past few days. No one would think anything odd about the new guy finally getting into his work. 

Except Seifer.

Squall pulled his gloves back on and pushed both hands into his hair, raising his eyebrows and taking a deep breath as he looked at his inaccurate reflection. He didn’t have time for this. The customer he had been watching ever since he showed up finally asked for him and Squall was fairly positive he was going to be the direct source of the drugs in this club. Backstage, the other strippers had all spoken fondly of Figaro, the very rich patron with very specific tastes. He liked angry men, liked to break them, liked to make them dependent on him, then liked to keep them as pets. How the others could talk about him like he was a sweetheart while saying that, Squall had no idea—until he saw them swap tiny yellow pills with pink smiley faces on them. Squall had declined and the others had given him a knowing look, then promised he’d change his mind after he met Figaro. Apparently he treated everyone in the club very well since they allowed him to find his favorite type of entertainment without interfering. That information was almost enough to arrest the man, but he wanted to catch the drug dealer in the act himself, had to find out if he was the one at fault for the tainted product that was resulting in accidental deaths over the last month or if he was just a rich man trying to make kinky friends. Just as illegal, but not what he had been hired to find.

Squall glared at himself again, his expression flattening as if he was too good for anyone's attention, then he left the bathroom. Immediately his eyes went to the last place he had seen Seifer, but his partner was gone, maybe somewhere near the stage to find someone else to take care of him. If it was Cline, Squall was going to be so pissed. If it was _anyone,_ Squall was going to be pissed.

Good thing Figaro liked angry men…

 _“Does he get to break the rule?”_ Seifer’s voice echoed in his mind. 

Squall walked to section two, immediately drawing the attention of all of the “business men” sitting there. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure a couple of them were CEOs or politicians and he couldn’t believe they could be so cliched as to hang out in a strip club to discuss stocks and sex. He thought that kind of thing only happened in movies. 

Figaro trailed his eyes up Squall’s body as he approached, and Squall stopped just in front of the table, ignoring the woman getting fucked by a male stripper sitting beside him. 

“You interrupted my time with another client,” Squall said, not having to fake his irritation. Figaro leaned back in his seat and gestured Squall closer. Squall walked around to stand in front of him, leaning back against the edge of the table, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head to study him critically. “Should I ditch you if someone else pays me more than you before I’m done?”

“No one else will pay more than I do,” Figaro said silkily, finally smiling. “I’ve been watching you.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do,” Squall said tonelessly. Figaro’s smile widened. 

“How about you dance for me?”

“Why should I?”

“Isn’t that what _you’re_ supposed to do?” 

Squall watched the dark-haired man for a moment then pushed away from the table, lowering his arms. He approached and braced a knee on his sofa, right between his legs like he had for Seifer. He looked down at him through hooded lids. 

“You put me in a bad mood. If you want a dance, you have to fix it.”

“That blond man put you in a good mood?” Figaro asked and Squall narrowed his eyes. “I heard you didn’t let customers touch you.”

“He was polite.”

“I can be polite.”

Squall shifted and straddle Figaro’s lap, tugging on his necktie gently. “How polite?”

“Did he make you cum?”

“Does it look like he made me cum?” Squall sneered. He moved to get up again as if he was done here, but Figaro gripped his waist and jerked him back down. Squall glared at him but stayed seated. 

“You’re the prettiest stripper I’ve ever seen. And you’ve got a nasty attitude. I like that…” Figaro’s hands groped down Squall’s thighs. “I can put you in a very good mood, though.”

Figaro snapped his fingers and his bodyguard passed him a small metal box with an elegant engraving over it. It almost looked like a cigarette case, but when he clicked it open, it revealed black velvet lining and a collection of little smiley face pills.

Squall’s expression flattened like he was bored. “I don’t like those.”

“You don’t?” Figaro asked, surprised. “Have you tried them?”

“They’re weak shit.” Squall looked at Figaro in disgust and Figaro grinned wide. 

"Alright," Figaro said with amusement. "I have something special for you."

And then the pills Squall was looking for appeared right in front of him, tiny green gel-caps in a white velvet lined case.

"What are these?" Squall asked, feigning interest for the first time.

"Something special I've had made. A little cocktail of bliss in a tiny pill. No one else has these, I haven't moved them to the market yet," Figaro said smugly. Squall looked back up at him and lifted an eyebrow.

"You make drugs?"

"No, that's crude work," Figaro said, smirking. "I design them, then I have people who make them. It's a business."

"That's pretty impressive…" Squall admitted, finally sliding his hands up Figaro's chest. He began swiveling his hips, shifting to grind down on the drug dealer’s bulge when he felt it hardening under him.

"Open your mouth, I'll give you one as a treat," Figaro murmured. Squall smiled a little and rocked against him harder.

"Let me dance for you first."

Figaro grunted in pleasure and Squall stood up to sway his hips in front of the man's face before he stepped back a little and turned around to give him a view of his ass. He bent down just as he had for Seifer, but when he straightened up again, he turned back around instead of doing a body roll and aimed a small pistol from his boot at Figaro's chest. Figaro's eyes widened and his guard jerked forward, then froze when Seifer stepped up behind him with his own gun cocked at the back of his head. Squall didn't look at him but he felt some stress ease from his shoulders knowing Seifer had been shadowing him, making this mission so much easier than it might have been. Strippers and other guests gasped or yelped in shock, several getting up to bolt.

"Nobody move," Squall barked and everyone halted. "You're under arrest for manslaughter," he continued calmly, directing his words at Figaro. Figaro scowled up at him, fury starting to take over. 

"You fucking slut! You think you have anything on me? Get that gun out of my face!"

"I've called back up, commander" Seifer said. He smirked when Figaro looked over at him in alarm. Squall resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Seifer's favorite nickname for him in front of suspects, knowing he used it partially to scare them and partially to tease him.

"Good, then we're in no rush. No one moves from this booth on order of Balamb Garden. Failure to cooperate will be seen as resisting authority."

\--

When Squall finally came out of the strip club two hours later, he was exhausted and irritated. He carried his duffle bag on his shoulder and was dressed in a dark blue sweater and gray denim jeans he had changed into as soon as Figaro was cuffed by local cops earlier that night, allowing him to walk away from the scene for a moment. His hair was tousled back to its usual style and all the belts were missing except a normal one around his waist. The only thing that remained from his stripper appearance was the makeup he didn't have time to remove. 

He made his way toward the rental car he had been assigned for this mission. The rest of the parking lot had been cleared out and almost everyone else was gone except for a few cops taking final statements from lingering witnesses. Squall had sent Seifer home ahead of him, staying behind himself to make sure he wasn't needed due to any red tape from the local authorities, a job that Seifer didn't have to worry about. So a shock of surprise hit him when he saw the blond man leaning against his car an hour after he dismissed him, arms folded over his chest, glaring at him under the hazy glow of the flickering parking lot lamps. Squall's heart started racing as he approached.

Seifer watched him silently, his brows drawn low as he sorted through his thoughts. He had spent the last hour trying to figure out how he was going to handle this, but seeing Squall in person, he suddenly wasn't sure what to do. That moment in the strip club, those few heated kisses, crossing lines they had never even acknowledged before—it all felt like some sort of drunken dream, dissolving fast in the buzzing glow of flickering street lights. He glared at Squall, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. Squall stopped two feet away, clenching his jaw, a tick that Seifer knew meant he was irritated or stressed.

"What are you still doing here?" Squall asked, furrowing his brows. He wasn't sure if he wanted to handle whatever this was going to be right now. If he was a kinder man, Seifer would just let Squall go home and rest. It had been a long night, a long _three_ nights working, dancing for strangers, letting women and men grope him and feel the shape of him under clothes in intimate ways he didn't want to allow them. The only time he didn't loathe everything about this week was when he settled on Seifer's lap, his partner’s warm, rough hand wrapped around his swollen length, his whole body aching for more as they kissed. 

But Seifer was never very kind.

"Come here," Seifer finally ordered, letting his irritation take over. It was always the easiest route, especially with Squall. Squall's eyes widened a fraction. He hesitated but then warily took a step forward. Before he could change his mind, Seifer snatched Squall's belt loop and jerked him closer, turning both of them around to pin him back against the car door, pressing his hips into him as he glared down into his shocked eyes.

"Did you kiss your other clients?" Seifer asked the question that had been weighing on him the hardest, his voice low and rough, possessive. Squall inhaled sharply.

"N-no."

Seifer studied him a little, but still let his annoyance guide him, afraid of what would happen if he was too honest before he understood anything.

"Three fucking nights, Squall?" Seifer asked, accusatory. He couldn't tell if he was angrier about the strangers all over him or the danger he could have been in without back up, putting himself in the spotlight, vulnerable in a place he had probably never even visited as a guest. "You danced for people for three fucking nights?"

A thrill of pleasure ran through Squall at Seifer's tone.

"Would have been too obvious that we were together if you approached me on my first night," Squall breathed. He wanted to taste that anger. Wanted it to be something more than a soldier scolding his partner. Then the low growl of Seifer's next words flooded him with heat.

"Did you cum for them? Did you make them cum like you almost did for me?" Seifer demanded, letting the jealousy win over his protectiveness. Squall curled his fingers into his black shirt automatically.

"No. I barely touched them and they weren't allowed to touch me," Squall whispered, lowering his lids a little, feeling dizzy. Seifer searched his eyes for a moment, leaning in closer, whispering when he spoke again.

"Unlock the car." 

Squall obeyed immediately, clicking the car key in his hand. Seifer pulled away, forcing Squall to let go of him, but then he tugged hard on his belt loop again, yanking him away from the car to open the back door. Squall stumbled into him and grabbed his shirt, higher this time, near his collar. Seifer hummed in approval as he was forced to bend down a little, moving his hand to the small of Squall's back. 

"Were you fucking around with me in there? Putting on an act for the mission?" Seifer murmured, but the fury was melting as he felt the answer in Squall's touch. He walked Squall backward toward the back seat. Squall shook his head and Seifer took his duffle bag from him, tossing it into the car toward the front.

"Were you?" Squall asked, his heart thundering in his chest.

"No," Seifer growled and finally he leaned in to capture Squall's mouth. Squall moaned helplessly, instantly sliding his arms around Seifer's neck. Seifer pushed him into the back seat and Squall briefly let go of him to keep his balance, clutching at headrests as he simultaneously scooted back and leaned forward to prevent breaking the kiss. Seifer crawled in over him, bearing down on him hungrily, pressing his hips forward so Squall could feel his dick, hard as a rock through his clothes. Squall rolled his cock up to grind against him, and when they broke the kiss so they could both gasp for air, he reached down to fumble hurriedly with Seifer's belt. 

Seifer reached back to slam the door shut while Squall was busy, then fell forward and kissed him again just as his belt was whipped free. Squall blindly popped Seifer's pants open, yanking the zipper down. He made a huff of frustration when Seifer interrupted him to yank his sweater and undershirt off, but as soon as he was free, Squall shoved his hand inside the waistband of Seifer's boxer briefs and moaned loudly as he closed his fingers around his bare cock. Seifer bit his shoulder hard, causing a pleasurable pain to shoot through him.

Seifer pumped his length into Squall's hand as he sucked a dark hickey on his shoulder. Squall's free hand slid down the line of buttons on his shirt, quickly twisting each one open with impressive coordination as he continued to stroke his dick. When his shirt fell open, Seifer pulled back to shrug it off his shoulders, then reached down to push his pants down. He held himself up with one arm over Squall and used his other hand to jerk the brunet's pants open harshly and tug them down. They both took a moment to kick their clothes off, kissing and touching each other as they struggled in the close space of the car until they were both completely bare and Seifer was dropping on top of Squall, dragging helpless moans from both of them as their cocks pressed together, hard and hot, trapped between them as they caught one another's mouths in another desperate kiss.

Seifer pumped his hips and Squall broke the kiss breathlessly, "Selphie-"

"What?" Seifer said flatly, freezing as he looked down at Squall like he was a fucking idiot. Squall glared up at him with a matching expression, breathing hard as he continued.

"Selphie put lube in my bag-"

"Little freak," Seifer muttered with a scoff of laughter, but he immediately leaned over toward the front seat to snatch the bag, not needing to be told twice. As he dug around, Squall leaned up and closed his mouth around his nipple, causing Seifer to hiss in pleasure and frustration as the small, sealed bottle of lube slipped out of his fingers. He snatched it again and shifted away from Squall to drop on top of him again, glaring down at him with hunger.

Squall took the bottle from him and raised one of Seifer's hands to his lips to slide his finger into his mouth. He met green eyes as he swirled his tongue around his finger and Seifer groaned weakly. Squall sucked on him with unspoken promise as he opened the bottle's seal over Seifer's shoulders, then poured a little lube into his palm. He freed Seifer's finger with a pop, then watched him intimately as he shifted to reach down between them and glide the oil over both their lengths at the same time. Seifer groaned as they were slicked up and dropped his forehead to Squall's shoulder.

"Ahh, Seif- _Seifer,"_ Squall moaned in relief, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Seifer bit his neck and rolled his hips forward to fuck both their cocks into Squall's hand. Squall moaned again, louder, and moved with him, instinct and desire guiding them into a natural rhythm.

 _"Fuck,_ Squall," Seifer gasped, shifting to catch his mouth and dive his tongue into him. Squall met him eagerly, squeezing their lengths tighter. Seifer broke the kiss to inhale sharply. "Fuck, I'm close-ah!"

Squall reached up with his free hand to weave his fingers into the back of Seifer's hair, looking up at him with furrowed brows, a deep, helpless emotion surfacing in his blue eyes, little gasps escaping him as his body pulsed toward climax as well. 

"Oh fuck!" Seifer hissed harshly, his cock tightening. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold back, but then Squall's body tensed and the commander bit his bottom lip briefly before a cry of bliss broke free from him. He bucked beneath Seifer in powerful thrusts, shivering through his orgasm, and dragged Seifer over the edge with him in a burst of hot pleasure. Seifer rocked against him, moaning his name over and over until the waves of their release slowed, then he collapsed on top of Squall, both of them panting hard as they fell slack.

"Oh Hyne," Squall whispered weakly. "Holy fuck…"

Seifer chuckled into the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. "Didn't think…you were the praying type."

"Shut up…" Squall scolded with a huff of laughter. He stroked his fingers through Seifer's hair and nuzzled his nose against his temple. Seifer turned his face to press a kiss against Squall's skin.

"Did that little minx put wet wipes in your bag?" Seifer asked, lifting up and wincing a little at the wet mess between them. Squall gingerly let go of their cocks, pulling his hand away to hover it in the air to avoid touching anything.

"Dunno…"

Squall watched Seifer reach for the bag and thankfully find some wet wipes. The blond muttered another comment about Selphie being such a little deviant as he pulled a couple free and then cleaned the both of them up, passing a wipe to Squall to take care of his own hands. They took another moment to fumble against one another to pull underwear and pants back on, ordering each other to move body parts until Seifer's frustration at the tight space turned into a laugh and then they were kissing again, slower, languid and appreciative.

When they finally pulled apart again, breathless and relaxed, they finished dressing, Squall stealing Seifer's black button up, forcing Seifer to settle with Squall's white undershirt. The blue sweater remained discarded, lost somewhere under one of the seats.

"You don't wear an undershirt with button ups?" Squall asked as they each sat on opposite edges of the back seat, leaning out the open doors to pull their shoes on.

"It's a strip club," Seifer said like that was a dumb question. 

"Yeah, you weren't the stripper," Squall said with a soft snort.

"What if some gorgeous dancer wanted to open my shirt?" Seifer asked, stepping out of the car to walk around to Squall's side as he laced up his boots. He earned a lifted eyebrow as the brunet peered up at him from under his bangs.

"You go in there hoping?"

"Just playing the sleazy customer part."

"F rank at sleaziness attempt."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Seifer laughed, leaning against the car. Squall hopped out and tilted his head in thought.

"Hm. Where's your car?"

"Got a taxi."

"...D rank in sleaziness attempt."

Seifer laughed again and pulled Squall in for another kiss.

"People are still around," Squall murmured, but didn't fight him, closing his eyes as their lips met.

"It's a _strip club."_ Seifer reminded him when they parted. "Besides, I’m pretty sure the car was rocking pretty hard."

Squall frowned and blushed hard, glancing back toward the club. Luckily no one was lingering around outside.

"Not an exhibitionist after all?" Seifer asked, grinning cockily. Squall glared at him.

"You are?"

"No, sir," Seifer answered easily, squeezing Squall's hips with his fingers a little. "I'm a possessive, 'for my eyes only' kind of guy."

"Mm, at least the windows were tinted…" Squall commented mildly. 

Seifer smirked and leaned into the backseat to find the car keys, then pulled the driver side door open to climb in. Squall went around the other side, not arguing against Seifer's decision to drive.

"So," Seifer asked casually as he started the car and pulled out of the lot. "Was that your, uh…personal outfit in there or something you borrowed?"

"Mine…" Squall glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Selphie put it together for me though."

"Motherfucker," Seifer laughed ruefully. "Remind me to thank her."

"Oh, she'll remind you herself as soon as she sees us…" Squall said, smirking as he shook his head. He dug into his bag and retrieved a fresh wet wipe, then pulled down the sunvisor mirror and cleaned the make up off his scar like it had been bothering him. Seifer glanced at him and held back a smile, liking him better with his mark after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Side note: Seifer does not go out for one night stands, Squall is just making baseless assumptions. Seifer does go out to quietly contemplate his life and his past every once in a while, but that didn't fit in this story.
> 
> Also, I adore Rinoa even though it probably looks like I hate her lol. She's one of my favorite FF girls ever. Her request to help a eco-terrorist group is a nod to FF7, though it's not really important cause I don't plan to explore a crossover.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for leaving any kudos and comments! I'm too shy to reply individually, but every comment and kudos makes me smile and boosts my writing energy, so thank you so much. And as always, constructive criticism is welcome ❤


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